


flinch

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Body Image, Gen, Harry is a Good Friend, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Memory Issues, Past Sexual Assault, Pedophilia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Esteem Issues, Timeline What Timeline, but it's all very vague, no ron bashing ok we do not disrespect the king on this good hellsite, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 04:36:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21470161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: These days, it's possible that Ron is more afraid of rats than of spiders.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Peter Pettigrew/Ron Weasley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 117
Collections: Fanfic Anonymous





	flinch

**Author's Note:**

> please read the tags, triggering material ahead.
> 
> basically this is just me venting about my own trauma through a character I relate to. literally no idea when the abuse/assault would've happened, I guess sometime in second or third year, but like, there's some ptsd memory suppression at play. the hurt/comfort scene happens in like,, fifth or sixth year?
> 
> it's not plot heavy, yall. just me projecting.

Ron doesn’t remember anything about it. It’s fine, it’s okay, he’s alright, because he _doesn’t_ think about it, so it _didn’t_ happen, you see?

His head hurts something awful on the days like this, when he pastes on a smile that strains his face, laughs the loudest at Harry’s quips to ensure than everyone knows just how unbelievably alright he is.

They have no reason to suspect something’s wrong, and neither does he.

He prefers the cold of this almost-winter to the heat of summer.

The wind bites, but not like an animal. It steals the words from his mouth, makes him remember who and where and when he is.

It’s funny how heat makes goosebumps break out over his arms, makes him shiver in a way that’s different than shivering from temperature.

It was stiflingly hot in his bedroom at home, when—

Fred grabs at him, tries to noogie the top of his head, and Ron shudders, squirming out of his brother’s grasp.

Ginny sticks her chin out to tuck her head on Ron’s shoulder, wraps an arm around him, and he startles, gently separates himself from her touch.

“Mr. Weasley? Are you quite alright?” McGonagall asks, eyes sharp and searching and knowing— she’d have done well in Slytherin, Ron swears.

Ron forces some air into his lungs, but it doesn’t feel like enough. He doesn’t muck around with the pasted-on smile this time, he’s too damn tired. “Fine, Professor. I’m okay.”

He looks at himself in the mirror and he’s not good enough. There’s a pit in his stomach that’s been there for so long it’s become a part of him. 

His skin looks sallow and his eyes look haunted and his stomach and legs and arms look all wrong. 

“Ron?” Harry starts. It’s quiet in their dorm. Everyone else in their room is still in the dining hall. It's been so long since it happened, Ron doesn't know why it still bothers him. It didn't happen. It didn't. If he denies it enough, maybe there's a way he can will it out of existence.

Harry knows things Ron’s other classmates don’t. Harry really shouldn’t know those things, but Ron can still remember how skinny and horribly small Harry had looked behind the bars on his windows, when trying to wrest himself away from his uncle’s bruising grip.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks, frowning.

_Not smart enough, not talented enough, not handsome enough, not kind enough, not fit enough, not good enough._

Ron shakes his head, tears pooling in his eyes until they spill over. He hides his face in his hands, but that doesn’t cover the way his shoulders shake with his crying.

Harry opens his arms to invite Ron in for a hug, and Ron doesn’t accept the invitation. (He can’t. He’s not _clean._)

What had <s>the man that was Scabbers</s> what had Peter _said?_ What had he said to Ron? He can’t let himself remember that, he refuses.

“Hey, it’s— it’s going to be okay,” Harry babbles. “I’m here for you. So’s ‘Mione. We’re always here for you no matter what. Come on, let’s— let’s try some deep breaths, yeah?”

Ron tries, and it doesn’t entirely work (because what will?), but after a moment, he’s at least able to ask, “No matter what? You mean that?”

Harry offers Ron his hand, and Ron takes it. “We’re best mates,” Harry says plainly. “I’m afraid there’s no getting out of the fact that I love you, you git.”

Despite everything, the tiniest laugh tumbles of Ron’s mouth at that. He lightly squeezes Harry’s hand. It feels nice. It’s grounding. It’s less out of control than a hug or playful roughhousing.

“Something bad happened. To me,” Ron admits. He feels like he sounds like a child, but they’re 15, and maybe that’s still quite young, when you really think about it. He feels like he’s going to be sick. He sobs, and it takes an age for him to say what he needs to say next. “Someone hurt me. A while ago.”

But is that right? _Did_ Peter hurt him? Did he claw at Ron’s skin and tug at his hair?

What did he say?

Did Peter make him feel good (against his will) and never leave a single mark?

What did he say?

Did Ron talk back to him, say “no,” reach for his wand and try to protect himself?

More signs point to Ron just freezing and letting it happen, in which case, maybe he’d deserved it. 

He’s always been such a coward.

Harry squeezes Ron's hand and Ron catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror again, he’s so fucking ugly, he’s lucky at least one person thought he was desirable enough to—

“Hurt. It hurts, Harry,” Ron mumbles.

“It’s over, Ron,” Harry insists. “Whatever it was is over. Even if it still hurts. It’s not going to happen again, even if I have to say fuck wizard rules and commit an unforgivable on whatever bastard was stupid enough to go after my friend.”

Harry means every word of it, Ron knows he does. And he's not okay, he's far from being okay, but this right here is something he can hold onto for now.


End file.
